Why We Cry At Movies
by Destroyer of Cities
Summary: I guess there's no way to make love not break our hearts. Cam heartbreak.
1. Chapter 1

_I guess there's no way to make love not break out hearts._

.

.

**Carly.**

Sam casts her eyes down to the snow-covered sidewalk and shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets. Her soft pink lips contrast immensely with her pale skin, but in a way they fit her portrait perfectly. She had stopped bothering to shake off the stray snowflakes that gathered on the crown and around the folded edges of her beanie. Her long, golden tresses spill out elegantly from the cap, rolling over her shoulders and curling in thick ringlets at the bottom.

On this cold Seattle day, she looks like an angel.

"This is so… sudden," is all she says. I had actually expected her to become enraged at my announcement, or to be frustrated that I don't see things her way, or feel how she does - at least, not anymore. "I suppose you've been thinking about this for a while," she comments with a small sad smile resting on her lips, and I feel my heart breaking for her, but not in the way that it used to.

"Yes, compulsively," I reply in my awkward way, not really sure of any way I could say things that would make this less painful for her, and in turn less painful for me. I fidget with the gloves on my hands. They belong to Sam, both the gloves and my hands, but I guess I'll return the gloves through the mail in a few months, because it's still chilly out and Sam doesn't wear gloves often anyhow.

"I see," she chokes out, and I can just feel the lump that must be in her throat as she holds back the tears and the overwhelming urge not to buckle at the knees. I'm only guessing, because that's how I feel now. "Okay then," she mumbles out. She appears not to know what to do or say for a moment, and a stray tear escapes from the very corner of her left eye, streaking down her soft cheeks and falling into the white abyss of the snow.

"Sam," her name escapes my lips, and this is hurting more than I thought it would to see her standing here outside of our building with her heart on her sleeve, bleeding out from a university-shaped puncture wound.

"Save it," her voice, although gentle, finds a way to cut through me. Her right hand is placed over her heart, and she's looking at me with the loving eyes that I see in the mornings when I wake up next to her and she's watching me as I sleep peacefully. My heart races, but it's already too late. "There are some times in life when you have to follow your heart."

.

.

**Sam.**

"Actually, I've decided that I want to go to California after all," Carly blurts out, and I stop in my tracks a few feet away from the lobby door of our building, turning around to face her. I tilt my head to the side slightly in confusion, eying her warily, because honestly, she's not making much sense.

"But, babe, we just signed a six month lease a few weeks ago, don't you remember?" I question, taking a slow step closer to her and taking her gloved hands into my cold bare ones. She recoiled slightly at my touch, and for some reason I feel like it wasn't because of my cold hands at all.

"Sam, I – well, I've also decided that maybe it's best that you don't come with me," she says. Her eyes pierce mine, and I can't even believe what I'm hearing. "I just think that it's for… the best, for both of us."

My head is buzzing and I take a careful step backwards, putting my hands in my coat pockets to stave off the sudden unbearable chills coursing through my entire system. She's still looking at me, expectantly. Trying to gage my reaction, I'm sure; trying to analyze me. I can't even look at her anymore. I toss my gaze to the sidewalk and shrink into myself, trying to find the will to do _something_.

"This is so… sudden," is all that I find myself uttering as my head spins like a top. Is this even real? I can't seem to comprehend why this is happening, but it is and that's all that really matters. "I suppose you've been thinking about this for a while," I note, knowing how Carly can relentlessly obsess over decisions and changes. I force myself to smile.

"Yes, compulsively," she says, and she's fidgeting with the gloves that she borrowed from me a little over two years ago, that I now consider to be hers. I feel a slight pain run through my chest and I want to collapse.

"I see," I cough out, pushing myself to the limit in my attempt at spilling no tears, at least not in front of her or out in public. "Okay then," I mutter as I fail terribly and a single tear escapes, shattering my façade, or what was left of it anyhow.

"Sam," she whispers, and I don't want pity. I don't know what I want at the moment, but I know that I don't want that. I remove my hands from my jacket pocket and briefly ball them into tight fists until my palms are on fire. I can't get mad at her, I know that I can't. Feeling legitimate anger towards her is and was always impossible. The only thing that I can really do is resolve to feel nothing.

"Save it," I say with a soft sigh, placing my right hand over my heart. I can feel my chest vibrating from each persistent beat and it calms me. I settle my tired gaze on her, for the first time in what feels like an eternity; it was probably less than four minutes. "There are some times in life when you have to follow your heart," and those are the exact words I said to her seconds before our first kiss on the roof of her building three years ago on this very day.

* * *

**Hey everyone! What do you guys think? Too sad, or what? I actually like this piece a lot, I intended for it to be a trilogy, but I might just decide to be lazy and leave it as a one-shot. If people want me to continue, just let me know. I'll be updating my other stories soon, too, so rest assured that I haven't given up (:**

**Reviews are welcomed, as is criticism of all kinds (I'm an adult, I can handle the heat ;) haha). So, you know what to do, show me some love!**

**Also, the song that this is based on is 'Why We Cry At Movies' by As Tall As Lions, they are a fantastic band and there is no copyright intended on my behalf.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I decided to continue this after all. It kinda bothered me that I didn't properly end it, but if you liked it better as a one-shot, just don't read this haha. Anyhow, please review and let me know what you think, because the next chapter will be in Carly's point of view, although you guys don't seem to be diggin' her very much in this story.**

* * *

_It's strange how it goes, when nobody knows you're not alive._

"You don't have to do this," I mutter, using my hand to shield my eyes from the assault of sunlight pouring in through the open blinds. I'm admittedly experiencing a slight hangover, but it really isn't too bad, mostly because I'm immune thanks to the alcoholic genes my mother passed onto me, and also because it's not like I've been out binge drinking – I still have to work to pay for this apartment and for my classes at the community college.

"Sam, we've been best friends for years, I can't just let you sink into depression. I'm here for you," Freddie says, which is amazing because if I were him I'd still be more than bitter about Big Bad Sam coming around and stealing his girl's heart. He turns back to the stove and puts on some bacon. The sizzling sound triggers my stomach into involuntary complaints of hunger. "Plus, I could use a little time away from my mom," he adds and I can't hold back my grin. I do, however, restrain myself from insulting him because right now he controls my future bacon.

"I really appreciate this," I mumble, slouching down into a seat around the small kitchen table. "It's nice not being alone," I nearly whisper, and I can't stop the thickness that creeps into my voice even as I try not to get emotional.

"I understand. What Carly did – I mean, she's my friend, but that was a really terrible thing that happened. I'm all for going to a good school, but some warning at the very least would be nice."

I nod, not wanting to continue the direction of this conversation. It hurt enough without having to talk about it. Freddie walks over to me with a plate of toast, two sunny-side-up eggs and a pile of bacon on it arranged in a smiley face with bacon-hair – it was true artwork. My face lights up instantly as I eye the food. I begin to eat as soon as he sets it down in front of me, not having eaten a real meal since Carly moved out a little over two weeks ago.

_Sixteen days_, I think to myself, because no matter how hard I try, I can't stop counting.

"Thank you," I manage to say between mouthfuls of food. Once I devour half the plate of food, I slow down considerably, feeling that I owe Freddie a few words. "I appreciate everything that you've done. I know that I've always been the one to tease you, beat you up and steal the girl of your dreams, but I'm glad that we're friends. I owe you so much," I say, looking him in the eyes as he sits down opposite to me with his own plate of food.

He doesn't say anything for a little while, but then a slow smile overtakes his face. "I knew you never really hated me!" he says in an accusing voice, pointing his finger at me.

"Shut up!" I bark, but I can't keep the grin off of my face. "You still are, and always will be, a dork!"

"True. And you will always be Sam Puckett,"

"Damn straight," I say, leaning back in my chair, having already finished my meal. "I'll handle the dishes," I offer, not wanting to overwork my already generous savior of a friend.

.

"_Sam, you don't have to help me pack," she says, leaning over her suitcase. I don't want to help her pack, but I can't stay away when I know that she's leaving._

"_It's alright, I want to be a good friend. I know that leaving is hard on you, too," I say, but I know that for her, this is hardly something to bat an eyelash at. I've bawling my eyes out for the last week and she's been carrying on as she had before._

"_You know you'll always be more than a friend to me," Carly insists, standing and taking a step towards where I was sitting on her bed folding a shirt._

_Lies, lies, lies. _

"_It's fine," I say as she sits down next to me, placing a warm hand on my upper thigh. _

"_I hope you realize that I'm only leaving because it's what's best for us. When I'm done with school, maybe we can try again?" she tries to reason, but all I hear is a giant lie that she's trying to feed to me to make herself feel better; to justify her actions._

"_Sounds like a plan," I mutter, putting the shirt into her suitcase, and when I look into her eyes, I find her leaning towards me. She kisses me slowly and pulls me down on top of her, and if this is the only thing I can do to show her how much I really love her, then so be it._

.

_I blink awake and it's a quarter past midnight, meaning that I've been knocked out for about four hours. I draw a shivering naked Carly closer to me and pull the blanket up to her shoulders. I've been used; I know it, because no matter how good the sex is, I know that she won't be staying._

_There's a stinging in the corner of my eyes as tears begin to spill freely down my face. How did it get to this point? I don't even want to know, really. All I want is for Carly to want me, and for her to stay. But, she won't._

_Trying to ignore how absolutely filthy I feel, I close my eyes and drift back to sleep._

.

_I wake up again and this time it's seven in the morning. The sunlight is bathing the room in an orange glow that caused a sort of uneasy comfort to wash over me. I blink a few times to help myself wake up and I notice an absence of warmth next to me._

_Carly – along with all of her stuff – is gone. _

_Bolting from the bed, I look dash around our apartment, but she's nowhere in sight. There's a sticky note on the refrigerator. I rip it off and read it:_

I'm sorry Sam, maybe one day we can be together.

_She didn't even bother to wake me up. What could I ever have done to deserve to be treated this way? True, I'm not perfect, but I did everything that I could, and here is where it got me._

_I drop to my knees in despair, tearing the note into shreds and gritting my teeth against my urge to scream. She's gone, and her flight doesn't even leave for two days._

.

I look down at my pruned hands in the sink and sigh. I guess I should probably refrain from zoning out when I do the dishes. I dry my hands and walk into my room. Closing the door behind me, I decide to go on SplashFace to see if anyone wanted to hang out with me and Freddie.

When I log in, I see a post from Carly, and it goes on about how great California is and how much fun she's having. One of our friends asks about how I was handling her move, and Carly's response was, 'she took it really well.'

I didn't take it 'well,' I did all I could, because she gave me no choice. I wish someone would wake me up from this nightmare, but I know that this is reality, and in reality, things hurt and good people get fucked.

My mom was right all along – there's no way to love and to not end up broken. I gave Carly Shay everything I had, and even things I had to work my ass off for, and here I am, breaking in two, regardless of how mercilessly I toiled, changing my habits, breaking my inborn vicious cycle to be a drug addicted criminal good-for-nothing, and shaping myself, all for a chance with her.

All hail the heartbreaker, because Carly Shay, you've broken my heart for the first and the last time.

I leave my room and walk into the living area where Freddie was watching some nerdy tech show. "Hey," I address him, grinning. "Let's go out and get smashed tonight!"


	3. Chapter 2, part II

**Hey, everyone (: I hope you've all been excellent as I have. I'm happy to say that I'm doing well in college, not that I expect anyone on the internet to care haha. Anyhow, listen up, I'm here to breathe some life back into the Cam section, finally. I'm just shaking it up with a few updates to my stories and I've been working on a couple one-shots here and there (but they aren't Cam, you guys might be a little surprised to see what shipping I'm going to venture into soon. Here's a hint: It's dirty, filthy, wrong and oh so right XD If you like iPoke and... other things, you should enjoy my other works soon to come. I just love going there, you feel me?) I have to admit, I'm a little crazy, so who knows what I'll write? This story has an interesting future, let's just say.**

**Sorry for the potential mistakes and errors in this chapter, you'll have to forgive me, for I am fairly intoxicated, but come tomorrow morning, I'll make any necessary changes to make this more pleasant and less annoying to read seeing as how I hear people like correct grammar usage - that may or may not be a jab at people who submit stories without any regard for grammatical rules in regard to the English language. *cough***

**Whew, it's been too long, did you guys miss me? I missed you all, you have no idea! So, now enjoy this steaming pot of angsty goodnees (:**

* * *

"Carly, what you did was wrong," Spencer admonishes in an uncharacteristically serious voice, and from across the line I can feel his disapproving frown aimed right at me. His voice has taken on the tone of an astonished father, disappointed in their child's choices in life and at a near-loss for words. "It was just… incredibly not right. Sam loves you Carly, so much. I'm so… I feel like I don't even know you anymore," Spencer says, struggling to speak to me, his own sister.

"Who told you?" I ask him, feeling that it probably wasn't Sam for obvious reasons. She would feel pathetic and weak running to my brother like a tossed away dog with her tail between her legs.

"Freddie's mother told me everything," he said without missing a beat in a way that sounded like he meant to say shouldn't have had to find out that way. "She said that you didn't even tell Sam you were leaving until after you both signed the lease," he added matter-of-factly, sounding extra unhappy. "Personally, she thinks that was a very underhanded thing of you to do to someone that you're supposedly in love with,"

"How did she know?" I ask, not really knowing what the connection was and trying to dodge the verbal jabs my older brother was sending my way. "Better yet, why would she know?"

"Mrs. Benson was so kind as to inform me that Freddie was staying at your old apartment with Sam. She was hysterical, saying that he wouldn't come home until Sam had fully recovered. So, naturally, I wondered what she of all people could have to recover from, seeing as how she was made of steel in terms of stomach and physical strength," he says. "But, Carlotta Taylor Shay, that girl could hardly even muster the energy to get out of bed when I went over there to see what Mrs. Benson had been talking about, and it was all because you totally ripped her heart out and left her for dead, like some ruthless heart-eating spider-woman-mutant that takes offerings from dead baby goats."

"Spencer, you know it wasn't like that," I say, sounding a little annoyed.

"Well, Carly, what was it like, then? Because I know that I didn't raise you to act that way, and to treat someone who's been there for you no matter what that way. And you can bet that I've already told dad all about this, as well as grandpa, so expect a call from them. They were both speechless when I told them about what happened, especially dad. Sam gave up her dreams for you."

"I gave up a lot for her to!" I reply, anger beginning to surge throughout my being. "iCarly could have done incredible things, but no, she just had to pursue music. Where did that leave me, Spencer? What about my needs?"

"Carly, you just got a job working as a television co-host for a hot new show because of the work both you and Sam did on iCarly, and what has Sam to show for it? I visited her yesterday, and thanks to Freddie she doesn't look like she's the living dead anymore, but she's seriously depressed. Something inside of her has died, and all you give a shit about is your career?" Spencer asks and if he weren't holding himself back he would be hollering at me, and I'm actually in awe at how he's talking to me right now.

There's a tense silence over the line after his outburst and I'm biting my lip, trying my hardest to think of words to say in my own defense, but I find none so I resign myself to silence.

"You've changed," he replies in a quiet, even-tempered, if not exasperated voice after another moment. "I have to go, Carly, I'm late for an exposition. I'll talk to you some other time," he says, and Spencer Shay hangs up on me. I drop my phone to the ground and my face falls down into my palms.

…

…

_"You're crazy," I say, sitting next to Sam in the tattoo parlour as she's being prepped for her second tattoo - a cupcake with wings inside of a heart-shaped balloon._

_"Damn right, I am," Sam replies grinning and removing her shirt fully, leaving her only in a bra as the artist begins to ink in the outline. When the pen brushes over her ribs, the blonde giggles hysterically and squeezes my hand. "I love you, cupcake," she says, grinning up at me._

_I beam back at her, feeling my heart warm at her show of affection. "I love you, too, Sam," I say, and back then I meant it._

…

…

"I just can't believe you could do something so selfish like that," Freddie says, sounding almost disgusted at me. His tone is harsh and I visibly wince. "She's more hurt than I've ever seen her – even more than when they shut down the old pork plant downtown, or when she caught sight of Melanie kissing you under that mistletoe at Christmas time a few years back."

"Freddie, you have to try and see it my way," I say, but no one seemed to want to listen to me.

"I don't know what there is to see, Sam is amazing! She's one of those people that are truly capable of anything," he said, sounding like the de facto captain of the Samantha Puckett Fan Club. "And she loves you. She even quit her old band and started going to college just to be with you and to keep you," he says, and now he sounds like an encyclopedia on her the inner workings of her life.

"That band was no good for her!" I protested. "It was for her own benefit."

"They were getting real record label attention, playing ten shows a month and they were really good. And I don't think that you're one to comment on what is and isn't in her best interest, seeing as how you just damn-near killed her inside. I'll be glad to tell you that Sam's joined another band, and they're doing really well despite what you've done to her. She's actually trying to be happy and do something that she loves to do, and soon she won't even have to think about you or the pain you've caused her ever again."

"You make it seem like I raped her or something!"

"You might as well have, seeing as how you took away her heart, and pretty much her everything. Carly, you were the only person that she ever truly opened herself up to. Now, Sam is completely closed off. She let you into places where no one has ever been, and now, thanks to your screw-up, no one ever will be again! Not even me…" he finished his tirade by trailing off, sounding both sorrowful and resentful.

"Wait a second," I say, piecing together a quickly clearing puzzle in my head. "You have feelings for Sam, don't you?" I question, and the second the words leave my lips it all clicks into place. His silence is what verifies it. "You do!" I accuse, sounding amazed as so many things began to make sense. "You've had feelings for her for all this time, haven't you?" I question accusingly, looking shocked. "Everything is so clear to me now," I say.

"No, wait, Carly –"

"Oh my god, I can hardly believe it," I mutter to myself and place a hand over my forehead.

…

…

"Really?" I hear an incredulous screech and after about a minute of high-powered vocabulary, I recognize the voice as belonging to Melanie Celeste Puckett. Hearing her yell is uncharacteristic, and something I have never heard aimed at anyone but Sam when the twins start to really get under each others skin.

"Carly, Freddie's mom had better have been lying to me, because I swear if I have to drive to California and kick your skinny little ass, I will! All those years of fighting with Sam have made me a hell of a boxing partner, and I'm not afraid to get my hair ruffled," she says, and I've never really been threatened by this usually sweet girl.

"Melanie, I'm sorry. I meant to tell you - "

"Meant to tell me what? That you screwed over my sister? Fuck you, I told you that she had trust issues and that if you weren't going to be gentle, then to stay the hell away from her!" Bearing witness to the usually proper Puckett speaking in this fashion completely threw me off and had me awe-struck, unable to respond.

"Nothing to say, huh?" she asks, accusingly and suddenly she sounds almost identical to her poorly-behaved twin. "Well, I'm only gonna tell you this once, so listen up - keep yourself away from my sister, or I'll show you what I learned the summer she and I stayed two weeks at my cousin Christian's house."

I audibly swallow. "You mean the one who was incarcerated for torturing people in his basement?" I ask, a light sweat breaking over my brow at the threat.

"The very same, and this time I'm not fucking around, got it? Now, have a nice day," she chirps to me in a chipper fashion before I hear the 'click' of our lines being disconnected.

Jesus Christ, did Mrs. Benson take it upon herself to notify the whole world? Next thing I know I'll be getting a call from the mailman that caught us making out against his truck, or even Mrs. Briggs, or Lewbert! I slump down into the couch of my apartment and sigh, placing my phone in my lap.

The idea crossed my mind that maybe I should finally call Sam and see how she was, but I couldn't help but feel a streak of fear from Melanie's threat, even if I knew deep down there was a small chance of her following through with it, or at least, that's what I hoped. If Melanie Puckett could talk to someone like that, who knows what else she was capable of? If she's anything like her twin, then she could probably do anything.

…

…

_"I don't want to love you anymore," she declares with her broken voice, choking back sobs every moment, "not when you're leaving." She's more composed than most people would be, but that's not much either way. My heart throbs when I see her tears, but I do nothing about it. What could possibly be done, though? "But, I can't help it," she says._

_I move to comfort her, wrapping my arms around her waist. At first, she flinches, but she melts into my touch slowly like she always did. My body shivers when she's flush against me and my lips move to her ear. I allow my hot breath to move over her neck and her body trembles gently._

_"Would you like to come to bed with me?" I ask, and I know I'm terrible for being so insensitive but having someone like Sam as a bedroom partner is every girl's dream, so I like to take advantage of that often._

_"Okay," she says, sniffling and sounding unenthusiastic about the idea. Her eyes lock onto mine and they're filled with pain and irreversible damage. "I wish I was worth more to you than to only be used," she whispers and if I had been inhaling I probably wouldn't have heard her. My current intake of breath is halted and trapped in my throat and I feel a prickling in my chest that I soon found not even hours of passionate sex could erase._

_As Sam slept beside me, her peaceful face was something to be admired. It was so unlike her during the daytime. My eyes traveled down her body and they came to rest on the small cupcake tattoo she had a few inches under her left breast._

_I stroke her hair and watch her. She would have made the perfect wife had I discovered my feeling for her at a better, later time in my life. She stirs and I place a kiss on her soft lips. I would miss this. But, it's something that I have to do._

_"We could have done great things..."_

…

…

A few moments after hanging up on Lewbert, my phone rings again with another Seattle number that I didn't recognize. "Wonder who it could be this time," I say to myself sarcastically. "Perhaps the mailman remembered us, too," I mutter before pressing 'talk'.

"Carly Shay, you have some serious explaining to do," a vaguely familiar and feminine voice calls over the receiver.

"Uh," I semi-stutter out. "Who is this?" I question.

"This is Nevel Papperman," the voice states matter-of-factly and if that's true then he's probably the only male in recorded history that had their voice get higher after puberty, rather than lower. "I've been informed, hopefully in error, that you and Samantha are no longer with one another," he states. "I would like to know what the meaning of all this hee-shaw is," and after that sentence, I've realized that I was indeed speaking to none other than Nevel; only he would speak in that flamer-ish manner.

"It's not 'hee-shaw,'" I respond, sighing and using air-quotes with my free hand, even though he couldn't see them over the phone. "It's true, I moved to California to go to school,"

"So, when will your girlfriend be moving up there to live with you?" he questions, obviously missing my meaning completely. "To my knowledge, she and Freddie are living together presently."

"Nevel, I broke up with her," I deadpan. "She won't be moving up here with me."

"Oh dear," he mutters, tutting lightly. "This is unacceptable, it simply won't do," he says, and I can tell this is going to be a quick conversation.

"I'm sorry that it's unsatisfactory to you, Nevel, but that's just what it is," I say, trying to leave no room for further argument.

"I won't just let this go," he says in his strange accent. "I simply won't!" and I can just imagine him wagging his finger in the air like it meant something.

"Goodbye, Nevel Papperman," I chirp before hanging up.

…

…

"Hello?" I answer the phone, even though I didn't recognize the number. By now this was becoming a bad habit, seeing as how it never brought any benefit to me in any way and always seemed to yield negative results. Yet, I answer anyhow. It's what a lady would do.

"Hello, dear, this is Mrs. Benson," I hear, and I scowl in response. When I don't speak for a while, she continues. "Carly, I know that you're probably upset with everybody ganging up on you and everything - " speaks Marissa Benson, but I cut her short.

"Yeah, because you told them!" I exclaim. "And now they've all been calling me and getting on my case about it," I say. "Why would you even tell them? You told Lewbert!" I exclaim in unadulterated annoyance.

"I told them because they needed to know and because I want Fredward home and in one piece. You do realize that you were the only thing standing in the way of my son trying to pursue his feelings for Samantha, don't you?"

"I didn't know that until a few days ago when Freddie called me and I finally connected the dots," I admit.

"It seems like you and her are the only ones who didn't know, and now my son's staying in her apartment, and I can't even get him to come back home! He's so absorbed with catering to her every need that he refuses to leave her side for a moment," she says, distress clear in her voice.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Benson, but what does this have to do with me?" I ask, sounding slightly annoyed and admittedly jealous to hear about Freddie trying to get closer to Sam.

"Because, Sam is your responsibility, and she's going to break my son's heart, partly due to the fact that she's a lesbian, and partly because she doesn't love anyone but you, and she probably will never love anyone who isn't you," she says, and I've had more than enough.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Benson, I have to go," I mutter into the receiver before I hang up.

…

…

_A cigarette is held between her lips before she withdraws it, and a moment later she exhales smoke into our, soon to be her, apartment. There were tear-streaks staining her face and she looked thoughtfully in the other direction, facing towards the open window by the fire escape._

_"You don't have to say anything," she whispers, her voice hoarse, but not from spending hours in the throes of ecstacty. She didn't even let me touch her this time, insisting on me being the only one to receive pleasure. "I won't tell your brother. I'll tell them all that I cheated on you so we broke up or something," she says and her voice sounds void of all emotion and life. "Except Freddie, because he'll know I'm lying and ruin everything."_

_"Thanks," I say and she nods slowly, still not looking at me. She looked so fragile sitting there in the nude with her legs drawn up to her chest and a cigarette in her mouth. She turns her head after a moment and fixes me with an entirely too peircing gaze._

_"One day I might need you to return the favor, right?" she asks, and underneath her pain, I saw that she was mocking me. My chest tightened and I felt shame._

_…_

…

I take a bite out of my bagel and enjoy the first long amount of time in the last few days that I haven't gotten a call or text in any way related to my ex-girlfriend. That is, until my phone rings. I sigh, my caller ID informing me that I was receiving a call from Rebecca Berkowitz.

I swallow my food and answer. "Hello?" I greet curiously.

"Hey, Carly," Rebecca greets me in return with almost too much enthusiasm. "I have to ask you about something really quick, y'know, if that's cool," she drawls annoyingly and now I remember why I didn't keep in close touch with her too much after graduating from high school.

"Uh, go ahead," I say, not knowing quite what to expect from her.

"Like, now that you're *finally* done with Sam, can I have her? I don't want to break girl code and not ask. Like, would it hurt our friendship?" she says. I hang up before I can even give myself to respond to her.

…

…

"I am at a loss for words," begins Gibby Gibson. There's a silence and he clears his throat. "Why did you do it?" he asks. "And why did you execute your evil plan in such a cruel way?" Of course he takes Sam's side, they have a bond that transcends social norms.

"Listen, it was the only way. If I told her ahead of time, she would have found some way to convince me to stay or at least tried to work out something long-distance, and I just don't want that. I need to move into a new phase of my life that doesn't involve my childhood crushes," I say, and I have to admit that didn't sound nearly as ruthless the millions of times I said it to myself in my head as motivation.

There's another thick, unbearable silence that's worsened because it's over the phone, and because it's Gibby. I struggle to find a way to come back from my last statement, but he speaks first.

"Wow, I could have sworn that the two of you were in love," he says, sounding more shocked than bitter. "How could she not have seen your heartlessness sooner?" he questions himself more than he questions me.

"Gibby, come on, I've gotten enough crap from everyone else. I did love Sam, it just wasn't going to work out."

"Don't 'Gibby, come on,' me, Shay. How could it not work out? The two of you were inseparable. I'm not sure if you knew this or anything, but, Sam was going to propose to you. She wanted to make you her wife. She got Spencer's blessing, was working on getting your father's blessing, and she and I had plans to go ring shopping next month, which she canceled, hmm, I dunno - because you broke her heart!"

"See, that's what I'm talking about! I'm way too young to get married, Gibby," I say, even though my heart stung; I had no idea that Sam had been planning to take that step with me. "I'm too young to even think about it when I haven't even established my career yet," I reason.

"Is that all you care about? If you broke up with Sam because you weren't ready for marriage, then that's weak. You could have said 'no,' or that you would have to wait. I'm sure she would rather be rejected than left for dead and in love still," he says, sounding like this whole situation was a no-brainer.

"She... she still loves me?" I ask tentatively. "I thought that she hated me," I whisper out.

"If she saw you right now, she would probably beg on her knees to have you back. The best songs her band has are about you because that's all she thinks about, so it's all she writes about. Everyone in the city is wondering who it is that broke Sam's heart, including the record labels who are watching the band's progress," Gibby claims.

"Really? I wanna look them up online and check them out, what's the name of the band?" I ask, wanting to hear what Sam's songs were saying about me.

"I've been instructed not to tell you by Freddie, I'm sorry, Carly," he says, not really sounding very apologetic at all. "I can tell you that I went to see them live, and they just blew me away - mostly Sam. I sent my cousin that works at Rise Records to go check them out," he says. "This one might just go all the way."

"That being said," he starts again. "You have to do something. I think you should call Sam and make up with her," he says and I scowl.

"That isn't going to happen," I say, sticking close to my guns.

"Carly, she just isn't herself anymore. I offered to let her give me a wedgie to help cheer herself up, and she politely declined! Politely declined, Carly! That's not Sam! That's not who she is at all," he says before a feminine voice sounds in the background similar to the tune of 'Gibby, come back to bed.' "Alright, I've gotta go," he says before hanging up on me unceremoniously.

I guess it's official - all my friends hate me.

…

…

"Hey," I say hesitantly, feeling that every phone conversation I have had in the last week has been about what a terrible person I am, and I can't expect this one to go any different. There's silence over the line and just when I thought I was hung up on, I hear a slow intake of breath.

"Hey, cupcake,"

Her voice is free of all malice, and this isn't the Sam I know. So soft spoken and thoughtful with her words to the point where she can be seen as bashful almost; 'reserved' is the word/adjective that I've been dancing around. It was odd to use that word to describe anything about her. Silence washed between us as I struggled with myself to recover and think of something to say to her; I mean, this is Sam we're talking about! This should all come naturally.

_"Sam, are you sure this is a good idea?" Freddie asks the blonde who was grinning from ear to ear and holding a red plastic cup filled not with beer, but with pure vodka._

_"What are you talkin' 'bout, Fredweena? This party's poppin'!" she exclaims before clumsily lighting a cigarette with her drink in her hand. A brunette in a black tank top and a mini skirt walks over to the jovial girl and proceeds to introduce herself, taking all of Sam's attention away from her friend._

_"Er, I guess I'll just be over here then," Freddie mumbles dejectedly and grabs a beer out of a random open cooler before heading into the kitchen to see if he knew anyone there._

_"We used to be classmates," the girl says. "My name's Tori," she says, biting her lower lip flirtatiously. If possible, the blonde's grin widened as she tossed back the rest of her drink and threw her cup down into a random bag that may or may not have been for trash._

_"Oh yeah? Well, hey there To-ri," she greets, slurring slightly and pronouncing each syllable individually and swaying just a bit as she takes a drag of her cigarette. "I don't remember you, but then again, I'm a little tipsy. You're pretty hot though," she says and the brunette giggles._

_"I always thought you were sexy," she says before lacing her hand through the taller girl's. Sam flinches slightly, but she let's it be. "There's some guys playing around on guitars in the living room, didn't you used to be the singer in that really kick-ass band?"_

_"I guess you could say that," Sam replies, shrugging and feigning modesty. "I'll go check it out. Wanna be a doll an get me some of that SoCo they've got goin' on in the kitchen?"_

_"Sure, hot stuff," the brunette replies, winking and walking off to the other room. As she leaves, Sam takes the opportunity to examine her rear end._

_"Solid," the blonde mutters to herself before she half stumbles into the living room of the house. She spots two guys on the other end of the room, sitting on the couch with acoustic guitars playing and the tune seems familiar._

_After getting a little closer, Sam recognizes the song as 'A Toast to Future Kids' by Emarosa by the way the black haired guitarist was vaguely humming the melody. Just when they were building up to the second chorus, Sam jumped in and added the lines that went with the chords._

"Say you love, say you'll love me either way_,_" _she belts and they dive into the chorus. The patrons of the room all began to applaud and more people poured into the room to see what the commotion was all about._

_"Is that Sam Puckett?" people murmured. "I haven't heard her sing in so long,"_

_"She's a beast," someone whispered. "Unstoppable," and as the trio played through the song and ended, an eruption of clapping, hooting and whistling came about._

_Somewhere during the commotion, Freddie wandered in and couldn't hold the grin off of his face. "She's so..." he whispered under his breath and tilted his beer up to his mouth. "She looks happy,"_

_"Eat your heart out, Jonny Craig!" Sam exclaims and on her face there is a genuine grin; the first in a long while._

_"Here's your drink," Tori says, handing Sam a red plastic cup of Southern Comfort as the blonde flicked her cigarette but into an abandoned drink cup. Sam nodded gratefully and took the offering. "I'm recording all of this for you," she says, smiling and holding up her phone._

_"Thanks doll," she says shortly, before turning to the musicians. "Hey, I'm Sam," she says, holding her hand out to them and taking a seat on the arm of the couch._

_The brown haired guitarist shakes her hand and grins. "We know who you are. We remember you from Destroyer," he says. "I'm Eric,"_

_The other guitarist flips his hair out of his face. "I'm Steven," he offers. "We just quit our old band Pentarim with Aaron Klas,"_

_"You guys wanna try playing one of my songs?" she asks, taking a gulp of her drink and settling herself more comfortably on the arm of the couch._

_"Hell yeah, you're a genius. Let's jam," Steven says,_

_"Alright, try this out - it's simple, it just goes A minor, C, and G in the beginning, and then the chorus is C, G, A minor, F, kay?" The two guitarists strum their instruments lightly and nod. "Cool. Everyone, I'm Sam, if you don't know me already, and I call this one 'Reusable,'" she tells the crowd of people watching them. "One, two, one-two-three-four,"_

"How have you been?" I ask, cautious and sure. "How have you been holding up?"

"I've been okay," she lies. "I drink, and that makes some of the pain go away. It doesn't work like it used to, though" she comments.

"Sam, I -"

"Don't," she cuts me off with her soft voice. "I know by now that you don't want me anymore, I don't wanna hear you say it; I don't want a speech about why you left me, or why I wasn't good enough. I've heard enough from the people around me, and I'm sure they've been calling you, too," she says, and I'm genuinely taken aback by her tone, but even more by her familiar slur.

"Are you drunk?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. "Sam, it's 3PM in Seattle," I say, and I don't mean for it to come out so bitingly, but it does and that evokes a defensive response from the blonde.

"I really, don't give a shit," she says and she says it to me convincingly enough to where I actually think she believes she's fine.

"You can't do that to yourself," I say, and she laughs cruelly in my ears. Freddie wasn't lying, her walls were up very high.

"Babe, I can do whatever I want. This knight isn't answering to a bratty princess anymore," she says and I recoil slightly at her insult. "I hope you fall in love with someone and they do this to you, because I feel like my heart is broken, as well as in flames with burning need, no matter what I do."

"That's flattering, but -"

"Don't patronize me!" Sam bellows into the phone and I hear the sound of a bottle shattering against what may have been the wall before brief cursing is heard and the call disconnects. Frantically I try to redial the phone, but she doesn't pick up. I keep trying on and off for the next hour, and she still doesn't answer. I continue to call and text her as I get ready for bed that night, and finally before I drift to sleep, I get a text message from the blonde. Through the distorted letters and misspelled words, I derive this:

_You don't know what to feel, so you resolve to not._

* * *

I'm a musician, can you tell? :P I hope you guys found this worth the intolerable wait haha, because you may or may not be in for another one. Also, Nevel has basically turned into Meryl Streep, tiny nose-bridge glasses, and all haha. Much love,

Destroyer.


End file.
